


Eggs In Your Pockets

by CoffeeWithConsequences



Series: 82 Games [6]
Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Communication, Established Relationship, Friendship, Happy Ending, M/M, School, Sex, Sexual Dysfunction, Talking, Therapy, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-07-05 01:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15853149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/pseuds/CoffeeWithConsequences
Summary: As Bitty and Jack's first year progresses, each of them begins lying to the other as a way to hide their own embarrassment and fear. When the situation comes to a head, they relearn what it means to be honest and support one another."Relationships, man. Lots of fuckin' labor."--Shitty





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Like the rest of this series, this story WILL end up with Bitty and Jack happy. Like all couples, they just have things they need to work on together. All of these stories are meant to focus on their learning to communicate, and this one may seem angsty in the first chapter, but it's no different. I guarantee a happy ending.
> 
> Thank you so much to [oceaxe](https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceaxe/profile) for the help with Kaya's voice!

Jack settled back in the chair and looked around Kaya’s office. He always spent the first few minutes of his session taking in any changes from the week before. This week, she’d exchanged the pink flowers in the small vase on her desk for larger, brighter ones. Jack found them jarring. He thought briefly about moving to the couch, where they wouldn’t be in his direct line of sight, but he hated the couch even more than the chair.

“So, how has your week been?” Kaya asked.

Jack took a deep breath. He knew what he needed to talk about, and he would, but he couldn’t just jump right in. “Fine,” he countered. “We won all three games.”

“That’s good,” she said, “but, as you know, not what I was asking.”

Jack liked Kaya more than his previous therapist. It had taken a few months to get used to her, but he liked her lack of pretense. She was unafraid to call him on it when he was hedging. She was efficient, and the general lack of efficiency was one of the things that irked him most about therapy.

“No anxiety attacks,” Jack said. “Nothing even close.”

“That’s also good,” Kaya answered. Then she was quiet, waiting for him to continue.

This was the thing about Kaya that Jack didn’t like so much. She was patient enough to wait him out. Most of the people in Jack’s life, whether they realized it or not, did a lot of conversational lifting for him. Kaya didn’t.

“OK,” Jack sighed. “There’s something I need to talk about. I don’t think it’s a big deal, but…” He trailed off. “Actually, it might be? I don’t really know. It’s kinda out of my area.”

“OK,” Kaya nodded. “Why don’t you tell me what happened, and then we’ll decide if it’s a big deal or not.”

Jack took another breath. God, there was just no way that talking about this wasn’t going to be humiliating. But, he’d done humiliating things before. “I lied to Bits.”

Kaya looked interested, but not shocked. “What did you lie to Eric about?” she prompted.

“Well, uh…” Jack straightened his shoulders and sat up in the chair. He was just going to have to be an adult about this. “OK. So, we’re doing this long-distance thing. He’s at Samwell and I’m here, or on the road, so most days, we don’t see each other. But we always try to talk on the phone or Skype.”

Kaya nodded. They’d talked before about ways for Jack to ensure he didn’t abandon or ignore Bitty when things got intense for him, and keeping to their Skype/phone schedule was one of the strategies Kaya suggested.

“So, sometimes, when we’re on Skype, or the phone, we, um…” Jack couldn’t help but trail off again. How much was he going to have to explain, here? “We don’t just talk?” he said, hopeful that Kaya would get it.

Kaya smiled. “You’re going to need to be specific if you want me to understand, Jack. I assume you’re talking about phone and cybersex?”

Jack’s face got hot. He nodded quickly and looked down. He was a grown man, this shouldn’t be so difficult.

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of,” Kaya said. “It’s a sex act like any other. If you’re both consenting adults and enjoying yourselves, there is no reason not to do it.”

Jack nodded again. “I know, I just...it’s embarrassing to talk about. But whatever. It’s context you need.” And this is was only going to get more embarrassing.

Kaya waited for Jack to continue.

“So, the first time, it was completely unintentional…”

* * *

 

Jack was exhausted. They’d won, but the game seemed endless. Every part of his body hurt, and his knee especially throbbed. He was warm in his bed, though, with Bitty on his laptop screen.

“I wish I could have caught the first period, sweetheart,” Bitty said. “It was already 1-0 by the time I got back to the Haus.”

Jack spent a few minutes giving Bitty a rundown of what he missed, then asked about his study group. He was happy to note that Bitty seemed enthusiastic about it. Then he drifted for a while, letting Bitty’s voice wash over him.

When Jack tuned back in, Bitty had moved from discussing his history professor’s terrible fashion choices to looking at Jack in that slightly-embarrassed, slightly-hungry way he’d come to recognize. Jack smiled. “Something you need, Bits?”

Bitty shook his head. “Don’t chirp me, Jack. You just got back from a five-day roadie with a roommate.”

In truth, Jack had missed his more adult-rated conversations with Bitty while he was gone, too. “Want to tell me about how much you missed me?” he teased.

Bitty blushed, but he started to talk. When it first started, Jack was surprised by Bitty’s penchant for dirty talk, but now it made complete sense. There was nothing Bitty couldn’t talk about. “It’s awful,” Bitty drawled. “Watchin’ you play when I can’t touch you afterward. I get to followin’ your ass with my eyes and get hard in the living room. One day, I’m gonna have to excuse myself before the game’s over.”

Jack stretched out on his bed and watched Bitty on the screen. His cock wasn’t showing any interest in Bitty’s words, but his mind absolutely was. He loved hearing how much Bitty wanted him, how Bitty thought about him when they weren’t together. Jack’s insecurities may have been ridiculous, but they’d grown only more pronounced as his first NHL season progressed, and Bitty was wonderful at soothing them.

A few minutes later, Jack noticed Bitty’s hand moving outside the screen. “Move the camera, Bits,” he urged. “I want to see you.”

Jack never would have guessed he’d be so into watching a partner jerk off, especially over a computer connection, but he loved it. He watched intently, cataloging the way Bitty’s wrist twisted, the little noises he made. It didn’t make Jack feel like he was there with Bitty, but it was its own kind of closeness, and he enjoyed it. This time, it happened pretty quickly, Bitty’s voice hitching just a few minutes after the camera panned down his body. Jack reached down at stroked himself idly through his sweats, but he already knew nothing was going to happen there. He was just too tired.

When Bitty moved the camera back up to his face, he was flushed and smiling. “Sorry, honey, that was quick!” He laughed, then furrowed his brow. “Wow, guess it was quick for you, too!”

Before Jack could formulate an answer, Bitty had moved away from the camera to clean himself up. When he came back a moment later, he launched into something else he’d been wanting to share with Jack. Jack thought of breaking in to explain that he hadn’t come--hadn’t even been trying--but now it just seemed weird.

As they signed off, Bitty spoke a little shyly. “I’m glad you are missin’ me the same way I’m missin’ you,” he said. “It feels a little silly. It’s not just about sex--far from it--but God, I miss touching you and havin’ you touch me. It’s good that at least we can do this.” He smiled at Jack through the camera. “Helps me go to sleep. I bet it does you, too, huh?”

Jack couldn’t argue. Bitty was sleepy and mussed and smiling, and he couldn’t make himself say a thing.

* * *

“OK,” Kaya said, as Jack finished the story, “so how did you feel after you hung up?”

“Terrible,” Jack admitted. “Like I lied. But later, I thought, you know, it’s not that big a thing. A white lie, right? Saved him from feeling dumb, no harm.”

Kaya waited.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut. “Then I did it again.” In truth, he’d done it every time he and Bits had spoken since the first--four times in all. “I just...it seemed easier? To give him what he wanted and not have him worry about it?”

Kaya looked at him and stayed silent. Damn her. Jack continued.

“I don’t want to lie to him,” he said. “But I don’t want him to feel like he’s weird for wanting it, you know? And I don’t want him to feel rejected. Because it’s not that. It’s just…” Jack pulled his hands through his hair in frustration. “It’s bad enough when we’re together and I can’t...can’t do everything he wants. This way, when we’re not together, he doesn’t have to know.”

“I think you need to try to separate your feelings out a little bit,” Kaya suggested. “You’re clearly agitated about this. You’ve told me before that you’re worried about lying to people you love. This is the first time you’ve mentioned being unhappy with your sexual performance. Can you unpack that?”

Jack thought a moment. “I’m upset because I lied,” he said. “And more upset because after the first time, which was unintentional, I kept doing it. That was cowardly and I know lying to people isn’t the way to have a good relationship.” He felt a bit like he was quoting a textbook, giving Kaya the answer he thought she wanted to hear.

“OK. Do you think there may be more to it than being upset at yourself for lying?”

Jack paused again. “Yeah, there’s more,” he finally admitted.

“Yes?”

“I...I don’t want him to think I don’t want him, and I don’t want him to think he’s weird for wanting sex. I know he’s not. But I also want him to be satisfied...for me. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want him to…” He trailed off, hating where this was going. “I don’t want him to be unhappy with me. I don’t want him to leave.”

“And you think he would be unhappy if he knew you didn’t want sex as often as he does?”

Jack shook his head. “I don’t think it’s even that,” he said. “I DO want it.” He was worked up enough now to overlook the embarrassment in what he was saying. “I want it all the time. When I’m with him and when I’m not. But I can’t...it doesn’t happen…”

“Let’s table that for just one minute,” Kaya said. “The physical part of this is something we need to talk about, and something you need to talk to your doctor about. But let’s save that until the end, OK?”

Jack nodded, so Kaya continued. “It sounds to me like what you’re saying is that you don’t want Eric to think less of you because of this, so you’re trying to hide it from him. Is that right?”

Miserably, Jack nodded. He knew what Kaya was going to say next, and she did.

“You already know that’s not fair. You are taking away his opportunity to prove he supports you.”

“But support me is all he does!” Jack didn’t yell, but his voice did pitch up. “I am already asking so much from him. Why can’t I just give him this one thing?” He pursed his lips, unsure of whether what he was about to say was acceptable or not, but deciding to go ahead with it. “This is Bitty's first time with any of this. Everything he knows about sex firsthand, he knows from me.”

“That’s a lot of responsibility,” Kaya said. “A lot for you to live up to.”

“I’m NOT living up to it!” Jack realized his fingers were gripping his knees and forced himself to relax. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell.”

“You’re allowed to yell here,” Kaya said, still calm. “I’m more concerned about how much this is upsetting you. You’re right that lying to your partner isn’t healthy behavior, and it’s not the kind of communication with Eric you want, but you didn’t do something horrible here, Jack. You just made a mistake. You’re allowed to do that.”

Jack snorted. Kaya knew how he felt about that concept.

“Do you think you’ll do it again?” Kaya asked.

Jack shrugged. “I know I shouldn’t,” he said. “But now that I’ve been doing it, if I stop...he’s going to think something is wrong. And then it’s going to be an even bigger deal.”

“Can you talk to him about that?” Kaya’s voice was gentle.

Jack shrugged again. “I know I should. But I don’t know if I can. I don’t have a solution. I mean, how is he supposed to believe I want it as much as he does, if I can’t do it?”

“That brings us back to the physical side,” Kaya said. “You told me before that you were fine with the libido-reduction side effect of your medication. Have those effects gotten worse?”

Jack groaned and wished once again he didn’t have to be honest about this. “It’s not just the libido stuff,” he said. “I can’t...sometimes, even if I want to…even if I’m turned on...”

Kaya nodded. “It impedes erection and climax?” she asked.

Jack nodded.

“When we first started seeing each other, you told me those types of side effects weren’t a big concern for you. Is that still true?”

“No.”

“Can you think about whether that’s changed because YOU want more, or because you want to be able to please Eric?”

Jack was quiet for so long he thought Kaya might actually break, but she didn’t. Finally, he said, “I want it for me. I want to make Bits happy, and I don’t want to lose him, but I also want…”

“More sex?” Kaya suggested.

Jack shrugged and smiled a little. “Yeah. I mean, I understand that I have to take the pills, and I am glad I have them, but…”

Kaya looked thoughtful. “When we talked about your past, and about Kent, you told me you didn’t like feeling out of control when you were with him, that you weren’t comfortable with that kind of desire. Is that something that concerns you now?”

Kaya didn’t ask Jack questions for which he wasn’t prepared all that frequently, but that one certainly was. “I don’t know,” he said.

“I wonder if it makes you uncomfortable to think you may not desire Eric the way you did Kent, even though you love him.”

Jack shook his head hard. “That’s not it. I...I want Bits. Not the same way I did Kenny, because I’m not eighteen anymore, but just as much.”

“OK,” Kaya said. “Is that something you feel like you need to prove, either to Eric or to yourself?”

Jack was stumped again. “Maybe?” he allowed.

“Jack, if you want to make a change to your medication to see if it helps, I am not going to try to dissuade you,” Kaya said. “But you know what the risks of that would be, as far as your anxiety goes, so you need to be aware of the potential costs. And you need to talk to your doctor about it.”

“I know.”

“Beyond that, though,” Kaya continued, “I encourage you to talk to Eric, both about what you’ve been doing and about your feelings about all of this. From everything you’ve told me, he’ll appreciate the honesty.”

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Jack said. “And I don’t want to embarrass myself any more than I already have.”

Kaya twisted her mouth in thought. “I know it’s easy for me to say, but none of this is about you not being virile, or not being a man, or any of that.”

Jack rolled his eyes. “I know.”

“Do you?” Kaya’s brow furrowed. “We’ve talked a lot about how your sexuality, even if it is hidden, sets you apart from your teammates. You’ve never specifically said it makes you feel less masculine, but you’ve hinted at it. It seems to me this might compound that feeling.”

Jack looked down. She was once again getting too close to a truth he didn’t want to face. She continued. “You’ve also told me that you feel the need to be, for lack of a better term, extra-manly in your interactions with Eric. You feel that’s what he expects from you.”

“It’s not that, really,” Jack said. “He’s never said anything like that. And I know Shitty would just say this is me being gender normative and heteronormative.”

“Those things might be true,” Kaya replied, “but they’re not the point here. The point is how you feel, and why you feel that way.”

Kaya had made clear early on that she wouldn’t let him get away with hiding his own feelings behind general political points curbed from Shitty’s lectures. “I don’t know why I feel that way,” Jack finally said. “Bitty has never told me I have to be strong for him, or anything like that.”

Kaya smiled. “We internalize so much of what’s around us,” she said. “I’m sure your friend Shitty says that, too. Nobody would have to tell you that you’re the “masculine type” for you to understand that you are, even if based only on your body and your profession.”

“I don’t necessarily have a problem with that, though,” he said. “I just want to be able to do it well.”

Kaya smiled again. Jack liked her smile. It wasn’t a bright, face-lightening thing, but a small sliver of patient amusement, like a quarter moon. “And do you think you’re not doing it well?”

“Not being able to get it up, or get off, isn’t exactly prime manliness.”

Kaya nodded. “The sexual side effects of SSRIs are a problem for a lot of people,” she said. “This isn’t something unusual. And your reaction isn’t unusual, either. I know it’s frustrating.”

They were both silent for a few minutes. Jack glanced at the clock and saw there were only a few minutes left in the session. “I am not going to promise to talk to Bitty,” he finally said. “I know I should, but I don’t know if I can.”

“That’s your decision,” Kaya replied. “I’m not going to pressure you. Do you want to check in about this next week?”

“Yeah.” Jack sighed. “We’re going to be on Skype next week, though. I’ll be in Pittsburgh.”

Kaya flipped open her calendar. “That’s fine.” She smiled at Jack again as she stood. “Try not to be too hard on yourself, Jack. You’re dealing with a lot of new things right now, and you’re not going to do all of them perfectly, no matter how much you want to.”

“Thanks,” Jack said as he headed for the door. He wasn’t sure he felt any better, but at least he’d done what he was supposed to do, been honest with Kaya, and talked about his feelings. That was something, right?

* * *

Bitty lay back on his bed and sighed, his laptop momentarily abandoned next to him. It wasn’t like he didn’t already know how poorly he was doing in both French and philosophy, but getting back-to-back emails from his professors made it harder to ignore.

Bitty’s first two years at Samwell had been academically mediocre, which was tolerable. He didn’t need to be an academic superstar, he just needed to graduate. This year was so much worse. Bitty wasn’t sure if it was the added element of his relationship with Jack taking up his time, or if his classes were just that much harder, but either way he wasn’t doing well. As midterms approached, he was in danger of failing French, and the low "C" he was currently pulling in philosophy could easily turn worse if he didn’t perform well on the midterm exam.

Bitty always downplayed his academic struggles to his parents--they didn’t need to worry about it when there was nothing they could do, and as long as he ended up with passing grades, that was good enough. His friends on the team knew about his procrastination problem, but never really asked about his marks, and he didn’t offer the information. Now, though, someone was explicitly interested. Jack asked about every exam, every study group. On one hand, Bitty was flattered and felt loved. On the other, it put him in the position of having to either lie to Jack or admit how bad things were.

So, he was lying.

While Bitty didn’t consider himself a pathological liar or anything, he did sometimes have a rather casual relationship with the whole truth. In part, being in the closet for so long necessitated it. In part, he was so desperate for people to like him, and to avoid conflict, that he sometimes bent the truth in order to keep things pleasant. He’d been justifying it to himself for long enough that he mostly didn’t even feel guilty anymore.

He felt guilty about this. For a while, Jack had been satisfied with vague answers, but in the last few weeks, he’d gotten more persistent. When he finally wasn’t able to avoid it any longer, Bitty straight-up lied, making a “D” on a quiz a “B”, then saying a paper that had been turned back with red ink seeping through the pages and points off for being late had been no problem.

Bitty glanced at his laptop clock. Jack would be calling in about an hour. Jack would almost certainly ask about French. Jack always asked about French. Bitty would either lie to him or confess he was in danger of failing. He thought about ways to avoid the call.

Before Bitty could make any decisions, his Skype rang. Puzzled, he looked over to see it was not Jack, but Shitty. He hated the relief that ran through him as he connected the call.

“Bro, I’m so glad you’re there,” Shitty said. “I have GOT to tell someone about this horseshit.” He spent the next few minutes talking without stopping to breathe, equal parts horrified and morbidly fascinated by his fellow L1s. Finally, when he paused, he noticed Bitty’s face and frowned. “Shit, Bits, are you OK?”

Bitty shrugged. He’d realized, sometime during Shitty’s ramblings, that Shitty might be a good person to talk with about his academic woes and lying to Jack. They weren’t out to many people, and Shitty was pretty non-judgemental. “I have a problem,” he admitted.

“Lay it on me,” Shitty said, making himself comfortable. “I’m sorry I didn’t give you a chance to get a word in before.”

“It’s fine.” Bitty smiled at Shitty’s near-nakedness. It was good to know that moving out of the Haus hadn’t changed him. “It’s...I’m not doing well in my classes.”

Shitty nodded. “How bad is it?”

When Bitty told him, Shitty continued to look sympathetic, but not shocked. “That’s fixable, though, right?” he asked.

Bitty said he thought it was, but that there was more. Shitty waited patiently.

“So, Jack…” Bitty began. “He always asks about how I’m doing in school.”

“He’s not trying to be a pain,” Shitty said. “He just doesn’t know how else to demonstrate he cares about you.”

“No, I know that. It’s nice...it’s nice that he’s interested.”

“But?”

“But I haven’t been completely honest with him about how I’m doing.”

Shitty smiled slightly. “He’s acting like a parent and you’re lying to him like one?”

“Kinda, yeah. And I don’t feel bad when I do this to Mama and Coach, but...it’s different to lie to Jack.”

“Yeah,” Shitty agreed. He thought for a minute. “Are you lying because you’re embarrassed about it?”

Bitty shrugged. “Partly? I mean, Jack did so well in school, even though he spent way more time on hockey than I do. I don’t want him to think I’m dumb.”

“He’s not gonna think that, Bits,” Shitty said. “Nobody is.”

“And I don’t want him to think I’m not trying hard enough, I guess? I mean, it’s Jack, you know?”

Shitty chuckled. “Jack ‘Do Better’ Zimmermann? Yeah, I get you.”

“I just get so frustrated,” Bitty continued. “I mean, I’m never going to be a great scholar or whatever, but I wasn’t this bad before!”

“Well, junior year is harder.”

“Yeah…” Bitty wasn’t convinced.

“Do you think it’s something else?” Shitty frowned. “Do you think it’s your relationship with Jack? The time that takes?”

Bitty looked down. “Maybe? I...I do spend a lot of time that I didn’t used to. And I don’t want him to know that, either, because if he did, he’d...well, I don’t know what he’d do.”

“Are you afraid that if he finds out you’re not doing well in school, he’ll blame himself and put distance between the two of you?”

Of course Shitty would understand. Bitty wondered why he hadn’t confided in his friend earlier. “Yeah,” he admitted.

“I can’t promise that isn’t exactly what he’d try to do,” Shitty said. “He does shit like that. But he’d know it wasn’t the answer. If you talked to him, you could start with that.”

“But if I talk to him now, he’s going to know I’ve been lying!” Bitty couldn’t imagine admitting to Jack that he’d been lying. Saying anything he thought might displease Jack was still so hard, even when it wasn’t Bitty’s fault.

“He might be mad about that, but he’ll forgive you,” Shitty said. “It’s not like Jack’s never kept a secret or lied.”

Bitty sighed. “I don’t want to add to his stress, either. He’s got so much going on, with his first season and all. I don’t want to make things harder on him.”

Shitty frowned for a moment, clearly trying to figure out how to say something, then plunged ahead. “Bits?” he asked. “Are you afraid that if you don’t make things easy for Jack, if you add complications to his life, he won’t want to be with you?”

Bitty swallowed hard. He was, of course, afraid of exactly that. It sometimes kept him up at night. He knew that Jack’s most common mechanism to combat his anxiety was to cut out everything that wasn’t necessary, to focus only on hockey. He was sure that if he proved too much of a distraction, Jack would cut him out. He might not want to, but he would.

Shitty continued without Bitty’s answer. “That’s not going to happen. Jay-Z may be a ruthless motherfucker on the ice, and a robot off it, but he’s not going to give up on you just because you make his life more complicated.”

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“And yet I am.” Shitty’s expression was rarely so serious. “I know him better than that. And you know him better than that, too.”

“I guess.”

“Bits, this has clearly been bothering you for a while. You need to talk to your giant-assed boy about it, before it eats you up any more. Tell him the school stuff or don’t, but if you’re really feeling like you have to be on your best behavior or he’ll throw you over, that’s something he needs to know.”

Bitty groaned. The last thing on Earth he wanted to do--ever, really--was have a discussion about his insecurities with Jack. The idea made him nauseous.

“Relationships, man,” Shitty sympathized. “Lots of fuckin’ labor.” He sat up and met Bitty’s eyes over the screen. “You’ve gotta help him out, though. He’s not gonna know how you’re feeling until you tell him.”

Bitty nodded.

“Now,” Shitty said, “can I help with the school stuff?”

“Nobody can help,” Bitty whined. “I just do not understand French. Or philosophy.”

“French is beyond me too, man, but philosophy I can help you get a handle on.” His eyes lit up. “Oh! I can tutor you in philosophy, and Jack can do French!”

“Ug, no.” Bitty’s nose wrinkled. “Jack already tries to help me with French.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

Bitty rolled his eyes. “Shits, how does Jack ‘help’ with anything?”

“Fuck. Is he getting you up at 5 to do flashcards?”

“Sometimes.”

Shitty laughed again. “Man, I love that dude, but he needs to learn to respect sleep.” He grew serious again. “As much as it sucks, though, Jack knows how to achieve things. If you let him help you, you really will do better.”

Bitty knew that was right, but he wasn’t quite ready to admit it yet.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I promise this will end happy. These boys just have to work a bit harder for it this time.

Bitty felt good as he waited near the players’ exit. For the first time in nearly two months--and the last time in just as long--he and Jack weren’t stymied by their schedules. Bitty made it to Providence in time for the Friday night game and didn’t have to leave until Sunday morning, when Jack was leaving for a roadie. It was perfect.

Well, kinda. Bitty was actually skipping a group project meeting for his philosophy course, and his entire group was mad at him about it, but he’d think about that later. He’d bake them some cookies. They’d forgive him. It was worth it to get this precious time with Jack, especially since they knew it would be Christmas before they’d be able to sneak in as much as an overnight again.

When Jack came out, he looked tired, but happy. The game had been an easy win, with Jack playing fewer shifts than usual so the third and fourth lines could get more ice time. He’d taken one pretty hard check early on, but it hadn’t seemed to bother him.

“Hi honey--I mean, hi Jack,” Bitty said, reddening. He was trying to play it cool in public, but it was still hard.

Jack didn’t seem to care. “Hey, Bits.” He smiled widely and stepped forward to wrap Bitty in a much-too-quick hug. “It’s good to see you.”

Bitty hated this part. It sucked that neither of them could show the other how they really felt about seeing one another after weeks apart. Jack’s face said he was thinking the same thing.

“Let’s get out of here quickly,” Jack said, glancing around. “Before anybody tries to get us to go out.” He paused. “Unless, did you want to…?”

Bitty grinned and shook his head. “Not in the least.”

Jack smiled back and led the way toward his truck.

When they were safely in the cab of Jack’s truck, in the dark parking garage, Bitty leaned over to give Jack a kiss that was intended to be quick. It didn’t stay that way. Jack’s mouth was hot and slick and tasted like spearmint gum. Bitty fisted his hands into Jack’s game day jacket and leaned as far across the seat as he could. “Lord, I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Jack panted, pulling his mouth away from Bitty’s and moving to Bitty’s neck. “So much.”

Jack and Bitty were interrupted by the sound of Jack’s teammates making their noisy way into the garage. Bitty pulled back quickly, trying to stifle a giggle. Jack looked at him with smirk. “Let’s go home.”

Bitty gave himself a pep talk, on the train, about being kind and clear about what he’d like, sexually, and being even kinder and patient if it wasn’t what Jack wanted. Given the lies he was telling about school, and the weight his conversation with Shitty still had on his shoulders, the last thing he wanted was any other misunderstanding or hard feelings, especially when they had so little time to spend together. Bitty’s plan to speak to Jack calmly and directly as soon as they got to the apartment was waylaid, though, as Jack was on him the minute the door closed.

Jack wrapped his arms around Bitty’s waist and lifted him, encouraging Bitty to wrap his legs around Jack’s body. Jack held him against the wall, hands strong under Bitty’s thighs, and kissed him breathlessly. Bitty leaned his head against the wall and moaned softly as Jack nipped down his neck and squeezed his ass. His arms were tight around Jack’s neck, his fingers playing in Jack’s hair. “Put me down, baby,” he finally said, barely able to get the words past his lips. “I can’t reach you from here.”

Jack let him down, and Bitty unwound his arms from Jack’s neck and put them around his waist. He let both hands fall to Jack’s ass and squeeze, massaging hard muscle under the wool of Jack’s trousers. They kissed again, hot and hard, and Jack’s hands ran under the edge of Bitty’s jersey, pushing it up as if to remove it.

“Do you want to eat or something?” Bitty managed to stutter, pulling back just a little.

Jack laughed. “Later. Just you now. Please?” His eyes looked a little wild. Bitty was equal parts aroused and unsure. Jack tended to be almost infuriatingly patient about sex.

“OK,” Bitty acquiesced. He turned toward Jack’s bedroom, reaching a hand back to intertwine his fingers with Jack’s as they walked.

Jack undressed Bitty more quickly than usual, stripping him out of each layer in sequence, not stopping to kiss or touch him in between. He didn’t stop until Bitty stood in front of him completely naked. “Bits, you’re gorgeous.” He ran his eyes up and down Bitty’s form. He reached out and ran a finger over Bitty’s bicep, tricep, quadricep.”You’ve been hitting it hard since I saw you last.”

Bitty smiled. “Season’s on,” he said. “Eating my protein.” He felt a little silly, stark naked while Jack was still wearing his whole suit, so he reached forward to push the jacket from Jack’s shoulders. “Let’s see how your training’s been going.”

With Bitty’s help, Jack undressed just as quickly, leaving his suit and shirt and underwear and socks in a pile on the floor. The room was half-lit, and Bitty took him in greedily. Bitty was used to it by now, but it was always going to be amazing to have a body like Jack Zimmermann’s standing nude in front of him.

“What do you want, Bits?” Jack asked, reaching out to grab Bitty’s hips. “Anything you want.”

Bitty thought a minute. He still hated asking for specifics, but he knew Jack had been right to tell him he never made requests. “No way the first time is gonna be anything but quick,” he said. “Been too long.”

Jack laughed and nodded. “Same for me.”

Bitty looked Jack over, his beautiful, tired face, his extraordinary body. “Let me suck you,” he said.

Jack shivered. “But you…” He gestured to the straining erection Bitty had been working on since they got in the truck.

“I can wait, for once.” Bitty smiled and pushed Jack gently back. “Sit down.”

Jack sat at the edge of his bed, legs spread. Bitty looked at him first, at his chiseled stomach and thick thighs, at his cock, bent hard and uncut toward his body. “I wish I could take a picture of this,” he muttered, running his fingers over it lightly. “So I’d have it all the time.”

The noise Jack made was half-laugh, half-moan. “That would be indiscreet.”

“Then I guess I’ll just have to memorize you,” Bitty said, nuzzling his cheek against the inside of Jack’s thigh, his lips centimeters from the head of Jack’s cock. Before Jack could respond, Bitty opened his mouth.

Bitty was confident he’d gotten better at this. The first few times he did it, he was uncomfortable and unsure, but now it felt natural. He loved the smell of Jack; loved the feel of him, skin soft, between his lips. He loved the salty taste at the head and the way he had to force his jaw to relax to take Jack in. He moaned softly around Jack’s cock as he started a slow rhythm, and smiled when he felt Jack’s hands tangle in his hair.

“Jesus, that’s so good.” Jack’s voice was breathless, his hips rocking gently. “I missed you so much. You feel so fucking good.”

Bitty smiled again, waiting for Jack’s to switch from English to French. It didn’t take long.

Jack collapsed back on the bed after he came, his chest rising and falling irregularly, like he’d been holding his breath. Bitty climbed up next to him, stretching out and laying his head against Jack’s chest.

“Just give me one minute,” Jack said, his speech still unsteady. “You kinda knocked the wind out of me.”

Bitty laughed. While he waited, he propped himself up on one elbow and examined Jack. He had a few fading bruises, but nothing that looked too bad. He really was getting bigger through the chest every time Bitty saw him. “How much time are you spending lifting, sweetpea?” Bitty asked, running his hand down Jack’s chest. “My Lord.”

Jack’s chuckle rumbled under Bitty’s hand. “Enough,” he said. He slid one hand between their bodies, palming between Bitty’s legs. “Come up here.”

Bitty looked at Jack, unsure what he meant. “Where?”

Jack gestured toward his own face. “I don’t want to sit up yet,” he said. “You come to me.”

Bitty grinned. “No work ethic,” he said, shaking his head. Then he pulled up to his knees,

Jack licked his lips and Bitty shivered. Then Jack flipped over onto his belly and raised his head until his breath ghosted over Bitty’s cock. “This OK?” he asked.

“God, yes,” Bitty said. He couldn’t pull his eyes away, running them repeatedly from where Jack’s face was inches from his dick, down Jack’s broad back, and over his remarkable ass. He reached out to cup Jack’s face in his hands. “Can I…?”

Jack nodded. “Please.” He leaned forward, pressing his head against Bitty’s hands as he took Bitty into his mouth.

It was, as Bitty predicted, embarrassingly quick. It took all his focus to hold himself still and not buck hard into Jack’s mouth. He kept having to close his eyes, knowing that seeing Jack laid out before him this way would make it even harder not to come immediately.

“My goodness,” Bitty gasped when he’d fallen back into Jack pillows, “that was intense. I like it that way.”

“Good to know,” Jack said, turning over so he could lay beside Bitty. “God, I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too.”

They were quiet for a few minutes, both of them tempted to drift to sleep. “You’d better eat before we fall asleep, sugar,” Bitty finally said, forcing himself to sit up. “You want me to make you something?” In truth, he didn’t actually feel like cooking--he was warm and sated and comfortable.

“Hell no,” Jack said, pulling himself up as well. “Let me just get a protein shake. That’ll be enough for tonight.”

“I won’t lie,” Bitty said, settling back. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

By the time Jack got back from the kitchen, balancing a glass of water for Bitty with his shake, Bitty had already fallen asleep.

* * *

 

Jack woke up by six whether he intended to or not. Today, though, with Bitty warm and asleep next to him, with a winning game the night before and rain falling outside, Jack broke his routine and stayed in bed. He could have run, and maybe he would later, but there was no real reason to get up, and he just didn’t want to. Instead, he watched Bitty sleep.

Jack replayed the night before as he lay there. He’d been worried that Bitty would have expectations he wouldn’t be able to fill. He was tired, had been all week, and he hadn’t cared about sex enough to even jerk off in longer than he could remember. He was fairly certain his body was going to force him to level with Bitty. It hadn’t happened that way at all. The minute he saw Bitty, a feeling he couldn’t name flooded through him--part arousal, part...relief? It was as if he’d convinced himself that Bitty--his relationship with Bitty--wasn’t real. Seeing him felt physically good, grounding, like the first few circles around a smooth sheet of ice. From there, it was easy.

This morning Jack was unsure again. It was wonderful to have Bitty here, and to have a whole day spread before them with nothing that had to be done, but Jack still hadn’t decided how to handle the lying-on-Skype thing, and he knew it would be worse to leave on the next roadie without addressing it. If he did, he would almost surely keep doing it.

Unwittingly, Jack thought about Kent. He thought about how easy it was, after the first few times, to lie to Kent. He’d told himself he was just making thing simpler between them, saving them the inevitable arguments that would come if Kent knew just how little he was sleeping, or just how much extra working out he was doing, or (especially) just how many pills he was taking. He’d done it for convenience, and then he’d done it because he couldn’t stop. He knew this wasn’t anything like that, but he hated himself for lying all the same.

By the time Bitty woke up, Jack had moved from slightly uneasy to anxious. He’d gotten up, showered, made coffee, and was pacing around the apartment. He should have gone for a run, but now his whole routine was off and it wasn’t the right time. Besides, it was still raining.

Bitty came out of the bedroom with rumpled hair and sleepy eyes. He was wearing only his boxer briefs and Jack’s t-shirt. “Mornin’,” he said, headed for the coffee pot.

“Morning, Bits,” Jack said. He was distracted, trying to figure out how to calm himself down without alarming Bitty.

Even first-thing groggy, Bitty knew something was wrong. After he poured his coffee, he came into the living room. Jack was staring out the window, jaw locked. “Everything OK?” Bitty asked, coming up behind Jack and wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist, coffee carefully balanced in one hand. “You seem tense.”

“I’m fine,” Jack said. Even to his own ears, it was robotic.

Bitty pulled back and looked at Jack more closely. “You’re not,” he said. “But if you don’t want to talk about it, that’s OK. What can I do?”

Jack knew Bitty’s intentions were good. Bitty’s intentions were always good. Everything about Bitty was good--he took care of people and was kind and didn’t lie and had a dick that worked and didn’t do drugs. Jack’s head was spinning. “I said I’m fine,” he snarled. “Leave it alone.”

Bitty took two quick steps back, shocked. “OK,” he said, quietly. “I’m going to go shower.”

* * *

Bitty took as long as he reasonably could in the shower, hoping that by the time he got out, Jack would be more civil. It had been a long time since Jack had spoken to him that way, and he didn’t appreciate it. Still, something was clearly wrong, so Bitty hoped he could give Jack a bit of space and then he’d be ready to talk about it.

While Bitty was dressing, an alarm went off on his phone. He silenced it, not noticing whether he’d turned it off or just snoozed. It was for the study group he was supposed to be doing today. Bitty frowned. What if he’d made a mistake in skipping it just to come to Providence and have Jack not want him here?

When Bitty returned to the living room, Jack was still staring out the window. “Jack?” he asked cautiously. “Can we talk about what’s going on?”

Jack turned. His eyes were wide, like they got right before a panic attack. Bitty stepped forward and put a hand out. “Hey,” he said gently. “If you can’t do this right now, we can talk later. Do you want me to count breaths with you?”

Jack sighed and shook his head, then closed his eyes for a moment. Just as he seemed about to speak, Bitty’s phone alarm went off again. “Sorry,” Bitty mumbled, reaching for his phone.

Jack glanced at the clock. “What’s the alarm for?” He was clearly trying to distract himself.

“Oh, just a study group,” Bitty said, wishing as soon as he said it that he’d thought of something else.

Jack frowned. “You’re supposed to have a study group today? Why didn’t you tell me? Are you skipping it to be here? You shouldn’t do that!” The questions came out rapidly, like shots fired.

Bitty frowned. “I’m perfectly capable of managing my own studying, Jack. It’s fine. It was more important to me to be with you.”

Jack shook his head. “No, Bits! You have to do well in school, so you’ll have lots of options after you graduate. You can’t prioritize me! What was the study group for? French? Philosophy? You shouldn’t be missing things in your hard classes just to hang out with me!”

Bitty wasn’t quick to anger, but it had been building, and suddenly, it overflowed. “You’re not my parent, Jack! I make my own decisions! And I didn’t just come to “hang out” with you. You’re my boyfriend, and we haven’t seen each other in weeks, and I missed you. I wanted to be with you. I wanted to come to see you play, and I wanted to sleep with you and eat breakfast with you and… I just wanted to be with you, like I always do. Even if you don’t. I’m sorry if that’s a problem.” By the end, he felt silly, but he couldn’t stop himself. “These stupid classes don’t matter--I’m never going to be a big shot. I’m probably just going to finish Samwell and go work in a bakery. So stop making it a big deal. I’m not going to Be Better at school, Jack Zimmermann. I’m going to continue to be just good enough. Hopefully, that’s enough for you!”

Jack stared at him. Bitty wasn’t sure he’d ever actually yelled at Jack before. “I can’t be responsible for that,” Jack said softly. “I’m already the reason you’re not dating the way you should be, the reason you’re spending so much time away from school this year. I can’t be the reason you don’t do well in your classes. I can’t be everything. Don’t put that on me.”

It was Bitty’s turn to stare. “You’re not...everything,” he said. “I just...I love you. I thought we both did. Maybe I’m taking this more seriously than you are.” His voice was starting to break.

“No, Bits, that’s not what I meant…” Jack raised his hands helplessly. “It’s just...it’s a lot of pressure, being so much to you. Your first everything and all of that.”

Bitty’s eyes flashed again. “That’s what this is about? You feel pressured because I’ve never done this before? Jesus, Jack. You might have mentioned that a bit earlier!” Bitty felt the conversation slipping from his grasp, his anger and sadness and fear bouncing off one another.

Jack just got quieter. “I think maybe we need some time, before this gets any worse,” he said. He stepped further back, putting space between himself and Bitty.

Bitty nodded mutely. “I’ll just get my things,” he said, beginning to walk toward the bedroom. His mind spun. He’d find his shoes and his coat, he could get the bus back...He could figure out the logistics, but his mind couldn’t fathom leaving Jack, not when they had so little time together.

When Bitty returned from the bedroom, his duffel over his shoulder, Jack was sitting on the couch, staring at the wall.

“Do you want me to go?” Bitty bit his tongue to keep the tears from his eyes as he asked.

“No,” Jack said. “But I don’t know how to talk to you if you stay.”

It was to Bitty’s own surprise that he felt anger rise in his throat before sorrow. “Call me when you figure that out,” he said, and headed toward the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am about to have surgery, so there might be a delay on finishing this for a couple of weeks. I do know how it ends, though, so I'll wrap it up as soon as I can.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the ridiculous delay on this. I had surgery, and then I got hit with a bad bout of depression, and I've really just been a mess. I ended up dividing the final chapter into two chapters, but I am very much hoping there won't be a big time lapse between this one and the last one. Those who are still with me, I really appreciate you sticking it out. This chapter is literally the first thing I've written in two months and I am feeling intensely self-critical and insecure about it. 
> 
> But onward! To an entire chapter of talking!

Jack didn’t move for a long time. He focused on breathing, and the panic attack subsided before it really had a chance to start. Instead of panicked, he felt dull, numb. He could see the hurt and anger in Bitty’s face, could hear his raised voice. The sound of him closing the apartment door echoed for hours.

Eventually, Jack got up. He changed and went for a run in the rain. He came back, showered, ate. He turned on his laptop and reviewed some tape he’d already seen. He glanced at his phone, over and over, but it didn’t buzz with a new message. The SMH chat was quiet.

Jack wished he could be the one to do it. He wished he could be the one to call, to send a text, to beg, if necessary. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know what to say. Bitty specifically said not to call until he figured it out.

So Jack thought about it. He went through his routine like a zombie, and he thought about it. When he went to sleep, he still had no idea.

* * *

When Bitty got back to the Haus, he didn’t really remember the steps to getting there. The Uber, the train, the walk. He was wet--he’d not thought to bring an umbrella--and cold and miserable.

As Bitty struggled out of his wet shoes, he heard Dex and Nursey in the kitchen, bickering. He heard Ransom and Holster in the living room, chirping one another over a video game. He held his breath as he sneaked up the stairs, hoping none of them would notice he was home. If anybody saw him, he’d almost certainly burst into tears, and that wasn’t going to make things any better.

Once he safely made it to his room, Bitty stripped out of his wet clothes and pulled his comforter around him. He stared at his silent phone. He wanted to call Jack. He wanted to apologize and explain and smooth over. But he couldn’t do it--he needed to know Jack was in this. He needed to know Jack was willing to be the one to come to him. Shitty was right--they couldn’t build a relationship on him being able to accommodate everything Jack ever needed, to never be any trouble. It was scary to admit, but that part was out of Bitty’s control. Jack had to be willing to do the work.

After he was sufficiently warm, Bitty set his shoulders. He was going to put on fresh clothes, and then he was going to eat something, and then he was going to the library. He was behind in two classes and needed to improve his grades to keep his eligibility, and if he couldn’t be with Jack, then he damn well wasn’t going to waste the time doing anything else.

By the time Bitty went to sleep, he felt marginally better. He’d been productive--his philosophy study group had been mostly hung-over that morning and decided to meet later, so he hadn’t missed it after all. He’d put in two good hours drilling French. It wasn’t any sort of miracle, but it was certainly more than he’d expected to salvage from the day. When he gave his phone one last look before turning in, it hurt his heart that there was nothing from Jack, but he didn’t really believe that would last forever. He knew sometimes Jack really did just need to think things through, and he was going to give it time.

* * *

Jack was still mostly asleep when he stumbled into the shower. He didn’t have a lot time--the team was flying out early--but he wanted to at least rinse off and wake up. His mind was too early-morning dull to do more than stand under the spray, and it wasn’t until it was already happening that he realized he was crying.

For a while after his overdose, Jack became quite a crier--in rehab, it seemed like he was tearing up every other minute. Since that passed, though, he hadn’t been one for a lot of crying, aside from the kind of frustrated tears that came from an important game lost. This wasn’t that. This was exhaustion and fear. This was Jack’s brain and body catching up to the idea of losing Bitty, and of it being his own fault.

Too tired to do anything else, Jack leaned against the tiled wall and let himself cry. Finally, after the last of it had run out of him, he turned the shower off.

Jack grabbed his phone before he did more than a cursory toweling off, not wanting to wait another second. He had no idea how Bitty was feeling, but the idea that he could be as miserable as Jack was intolerable. He typed with damp fingers.

_I’m so sorry. I love you. Can we talk when I get back?_

* * *

Bitty reached for his phone as soon as it buzzed. He’d been half-asleep, considering whether the virtue of getting up to run and then study would be worth leaving his warm bed. His eyes scanned Jack’s message quickly once, then more slowly. He began to type his reply before even thinking about it, then stopped himself to consider.

The answer would be yes, of course. He wanted to talk to Jack as soon as possible--this was the worst argument they’d had since getting together and it felt terrible. It was more than that, though. With a day to cool off, Bitty was aware that he’d left his boyfriend, who had a serious anxiety disorder, alone to freak out. And now Jack was going on a roadie without any closure to this situation, which had to make him anxious. Bitty hated himself a bit, not for the argument so much as the timing. He shouldn’t have left--they should have worked this out yesterday. Finally, he responded.

i’m _sorry 2. I_ luv _u 2. we can talk as soon as you have time. doesn’t have to be in person._

There was a brief pause, then a return text:

_It’s better if I can see you. If that’s OK? I want to be able to hug you. I’ll be back in three days._

Bitty smiled, picturing Jack frowning at his phone, considering his words.

_of course. not sure when_ i _can make it to_ providence _, though._

While he waited for a response, Bitty looked at his phone calendar. It was going to take a lot of moving things around and probably missing a practice to get to Providence.

_I’ll come to you. I love you. I’m sorry._

Bitty shook his head and responded.

_we’ll be ok._ i luv _u 2._

* * *

 The roadie seemed endless. Jack wasn’t playing well, and anxiety simmered just below the surface all the time. He was snappy with the team and hard on himself. It wasn’t quite bad enough for his teammates or coaches to call him on it, but it skirted the edges.

Texts from Bitty were less frequent than usual, but they didn’t stop. There were good luck texts before games and sympathetic ones after, along with Bitty’s usual good morning and good night. Even in the short series’ of words, though, Jack could feel the tension between them. He tried to keep it out of his responses, but was sure Bitty was feeling it as well.

In between frustrating bouts on the ice and moving from one mode of travel to another, Jack thought. He thought not just about the lying, but about his and Bitty’s entire relationship. He thought about how often Bitty came to him in Providence and how rarely he made it to Samwell. He thought about how much he expected Bitty to fit himself into Jack’s routines and priorities. He thought about how hard it was for Bitty to keep their relationship secret.

He’d known before they started that he was going to be asking more of Bitty than he was worth, and that was certainly the case. Jack thought about breaking it off, about telling Bitty that he couldn’t continue to impact his life so much, to keep him from so much. But the mere thought of losing Bitty made his stomach sink and his heart race. He wasn’t sure he could do it, even if it was the right thing.

Sitting on the bus to the airport in Ottawa, Jack pulled out his phone. He knew this wasn’t something to talk about over text, but he needed Bitty to know.

_I’m sorry I take you for granted. You make my life so much better._

He sent it before he could second-guess himself. True to form, Bitty replied within a minute.

_u make my life better 2._

* * *

 Bitty was a bit stunned when the text from Jack came through. He was washing dishes, cleaning up from a stress baking spree worthy of the darkest days of Jack’s hating him. He frowned as he read it.

In truth, Jack often did take Bitty for granted. Many of his teammates and friends did--they expected to him to be kind, accommodating, caretaking, but didn’t necessarily value it. Bitty had accepted a long time ago that the people he loved--especially boys--didn’t really know how to appreciate those things fully. But they were how he loved, so he did it anyway.

This wasn’t about baking pies and making sure the sick had soup, though. Jack meant something more. Bitty sighed. He didn’t know how he felt about Jack recognizing the sacrifices he made for their relationship. On one hand, it was nice to know Jack was thinking about it. On the other, he couldn’t help but fear that once Jack was thinking about it, he would want it to change.

Bitty was still thinking about Jack’s text later, as he sat on his bed and tried (and failed) to study French flashcards. He’d left the door open--a clear sign he wanted to be disturbed--and it didn’t take long for Lardo to pop her head in.

Lardo frowned. “You OK, Bits?”

Bitty shrugged. He’d been pretending with all of them for several days, and he didn’t feel like pretending now.

Lardo stepped inside, frowned, then flopped down on Bitty’s bed. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bitty considered again. She knew about Jack. She would be safe. And talking it out with her, before he talked to Jack, would make Bitty feel more secure. So he nodded. “Do you have some time? It’s kind of...a thing.”

Lardo got up and closed the door. “I’m all yours.”

Bitty had barely opened his mouth when his eyes started to mist. He rubbed at them angrily, but it was a lost cause. Lardo said nothing, just looked sympathetic, then moved toward him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders.

After a few seconds, Bitty began to talk. He kept his face in Lardo’s neck, breathing in her paint-and-weed-and-Nag Champa smell, and he talked.

Lardo never interrupted. Bitty started with the current problem--his argument with Jack--but soon moved to the school issues, to his worries that Jack wouldn’t want to be with him if it got too hard, to not knowing what he would ever be able to do after Samwell, to being terrified of coming out to his parents, to being even more terrified of staying hidden. He sobbed off and on through it all, and Lardo held him, rocking slightly, one hand absently petting his head.

Finally, Bitty stopped, pulling back and looking at Lardo. He knew his face was red and puffy, and the shoulder of her shirt was wet. He pulled his wrist over his nose and shuddered at how pathetic he must seem.

There was no judgment in Lardo’s eyes. As ever, she looked calm and patient. “OK,” she said slowly, “that’s a lot, Bits. That’s too much to be carrying around by yourself.”

Bitty groaned. “So I put it on you. I’m sorry, Lards. I didn’t mean to…”

She cut him off. “No. There is no reason to apologize. This is what friends are for.” She reached toward him and grabbed his shoulders. “That’s a lot, and you’re hurting, and I am glad you got it out. I’m always here for that. But you already know how to fix this stuff, Bits. At least, most of it.”

Bitty frowned. “If I knew how to fix it, I would.”

Lardo smirked. “Don’t give me that shit, Bits. You’re not helpless. You may be afraid to tell Jack the truth, but you know you can. You have no reason not to trust him with all of this, the same way you trust me.”

She eyed him silently until he nodded in agreement, then continued. “And the school stuff has the easiest solution--you just have to fucking do it. There is no other way with that.” She wrinkled her nose. “I got nothin’ on French, but I can study-buddy you in philosophy if you want. I took that class last year.”

Bitty nodded again. “That would be good.” He smiled slightly, remembering Shitty making the same offer. He had such great friends.

“The part after Samwell…” Lardo shook her head. “I truly don’t know. For any of us. But we’ll figure it out, right? Everybody does.” For the first time since they’d started talking, she sounded unsure. “Besides, you don’t need to worry about that yet.” She frowned. “But if what that is really about is trying to ‘keep up’ with Jack?” She shook her head again. “Gotta let that idea float away, bro. Jack Zimmermann is an all-star. Nobody keeps up.” Her lips pursed into a flat line. “And honestly, Bits? I wouldn’t want to. The price is too fucking high.”

Bitty sighed. He knew Lardo was right about that. He could daydream about being at Jack’s level--not in hockey, of course, but maybe becoming a famous baker--but would he really want that kind of constant pressure? He thought back to his figure skating days, and how tinged with anxiety all his Olympic daydreams had been. He wasn’t sure.

Lardo pulled him back toward her for another hug. “When is Jack back?”

“Tomorrow night,” Bitty said, voice muffled again. “He says he’s coming here, but I assume he means the next day--they’ll get in late.”

Lardo nodded and held him tight. “Try not to freak yourself out anymore until then, Bits. It’s going to be fine. You just have to be honest with each other.”

“You make that sound easier than it is,” Bitty grumbled as he pulled away, searching for a tissue to wipe his still-leaking eyes.

“Don’t I know it,” Lardo agreed. “But most shit worth doing is worth being difficult, right?”

Bitty forced a small smile. “Sage advice,” he chirped.

Lardo punched his shoulder. “Come on. Let’s go down and have some pie. There’s gotta be three or four down there, right?”

Bitty’s smile came easier this time. “Yep.”

* * *

 Jack was on the Haus porch before he started second-guessing himself. He’d done everything on automatic--gotten off the plane, gone to his truck, turned toward the freeway instead of toward his apartment. 40 minutes later he was at Samwell, at 3am, in his game-day suit. He still had no idea what to say, but he knew he couldn’t wait any longer to make things right. He braced himself and turned his key in the lock.

The Haus was quiet. Jack half-hoped someone would be awake in the living room, zoned in front of the TV, or at the kitchen table, but the lights were all off. Without an excuse to linger, Jack crept up the stairs, feeling a little bit like an intruder. He reminded himself that nobody sleeping behind any of the closed doors would mind his presence, and while he knew it was true, it still felt strange.

In front of Bitty’s door, Jack wasn’t sure what to do. Should he knock? Go right in? Would it be locked? If he knocked, would it wake Bitty before it woke Chowder across the hall? Jack tried to imagine the situation were reversed. He’d want Bitty to come right in--had given him a key for exactly that purpose. Jack turned the knob.

Bitty was asleep, an ambiguous lump under the covers. _He looks so small,_ Jack thought as he silently closed the door and stepped forward. He’d intended to wake Bitty up, to insist they talk immediately, middle of the night or not, but Jack’s own fatigue and the soft, small form in the bed changed his mind. Instead, he stripped quietly out of his clothes, tossing them over Bitty’s desk chair until he was down to his underwear. He lifted the blanket and laid down, wrapping his body around Bitty’s instinctively, protectively.

Bitty stirred, his eyes fluttering open and then shut again. “Jack?”

“It’s just me, bud. Don’t wake up. I’ll be here in the morning.” Jack leaned in and pushed his nose gently against Bitty’s hair, feeling more secure than he had in days.

Bitty moved toward him, resting his face against Jack’s chest. “I’m glad you’re here,” he murmured.

“Me too.” Jack bit his lip and held Bitty a little tighter. “We got this.”

Jack felt Bitty smile against his chest, then his breathing began to even out again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for your endless patience! I'm finally finished!
> 
> This shouldn't have been so hard to write--it's not them, it's me. I really hope to be able to get back to this series, since I have a ton more ideas, but it will likely be on hiatus for a while, as I try to get my shit together. Until then, though, I really appreciate your sticking with me, and I hope you enjoy the ending.

Bitty woke up slowly, before his alarm. He wasn’t startled--he remembered before he opened his eyes that Jack was with him. Jack had pushed him toward the wall during the night and was stretched out behind him now, one hard thigh pressed against Bitty’s back. Bitty turned carefully, not wanting to wake Jack, and laid against his chest a moment, breathing him in. His eyes felt hot and relief flooded through him. While he’d been good at telling himself it would all work out, he hadn’t really felt it until now.

Realizing there was no way he could get out of bed without climbing over Jack, Bitty tried to remain stealthy as he threw one leg over Jack’s sleeping form. Always quick to wake, Jack startled, his hands immediately on Bitty’s hips, so Bitty was stuck with one knee pressed against the bed and the other leg hanging off. “Morning, Bits,” Jack mumbled, eyes hazy as he opened them.

Bitty couldn’t help but smile. “Good reflexes, Zimmermann,” he chirped, but he couldn’t keep his face straight. Then, softer, “Good morning, Jack.” Jack pulled him down and Bitty wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck, burying his face in the pillow by Jack’s head. “I’m glad you’re here.”

“Me too, bud,” Jack whispered. His voice was sleep rough, his arms tight around Bitty’s back.

They stayed there a moment, quiet, feeling each other. Bitty thought of how nice it would be to skip the hard talking and just do this, just be together. But easy doesn’t mean right, he told himself sternly, finally pulling up a bit to sit again, still straddling Jack’s hips. “What time do you have to head back?” he asked.

Jack shook his head. “I’m not skating today. I can stay until tomorrow morning.”

Bitty frowned. “Are you hurt?” He started to move the blanket, as if to check Jack for injuries.

Jack shook his head. “No. I cleared it with Coach.”

Bitty’s eyes widened. “You’re...skipping practice?”

Jack smiled. “I'm taking a maintenance day, Bits. It’s fine. This was more important.”

There were complicated feelings in Bitty’s chest, and it was too early to sort them out. “OK,” he said. “Well, I just have one class, at ten. We don’t practice today.”

Jack nodded. “I know. I...I didn’t want us to have to rush.” He reached up and cupped the side of Bitty’s face in his palm. “I know we need to talk, and we will, but do you think we could wait until after your class? I just...I want to see you for a bit first.”

Bitty nodded. He’d felt the same way. He reached for his phone to check the time. “I don’t need to be up for another hour,” he said. “Do you want to go back to sleep?”

Jack shook his head, but pulled Bitty back toward him, until he was sprawled back over Jack’s body, his arms once again around Jack’s neck. “Just stay here for a while,” he said.

Bitty ended up late for class. It wasn’t bad--just a few minutes. Holster and Ransom were in the kitchen when he came down, running through with a travel mug in one hand and his jacket in the other. “Tell me there’s coffee made, y’all!”

Ransom plucked the mug from his fingers and filled it while Bitty grabbed books from the table and shoved them into his backpack. “Oversleep?” he asked, sympathetic.

“Something like that,” Bitty muttered. In truth, they hadn’t been asleep, but just drifting, occasionally talking about nothing, Jack’s hand stroking up and down Bitty’s spine. It felt better than anything had in ages. Bitty nodded his thanks for the coffee and was out the door before he could be asked to explain himself.

When Bitty left the lecture hall 90 minutes later, Jack was leaned up against a tree, watching the students spill out. His snapback was pulled down and he was half-hidden. Bitty grinned as he walked toward him. “Incognito?”

Jack shrugged. “Didn’t want to draw attention if I could help it.”

“Did anybody notice you?”

Jack shook his head. “I haven’t been here long. How was lecture?”

“Boring.”

Jack snorted. “You want to go to lunch? Annie’s?”

Bitty peeked up to meet Jack’s eyes under the bill of the hat. “That’s pretty public.”

“I’ll live. We’re not doing anything wrong.”

“OK.”

They were quiet as they walked across campus, and Bitty couldn’t help but think of how many times they’d made this trip before. He wouldn’t trade it for being with Jack the way he was now, of course, but he missed the relative simplicity of their friendship when Jack lived across the hall. He missed having Jack so close.

Jack must have been thinking similar thoughts. “I miss this,” he said, moving a bit closer to Bitty’s side and speaking in a low voice. “Being here with you. I miss Samwell, and the Haus, and Farber, and the team. But I really miss being with you every day.”

Bitty nodded, a lump forming in his throat.

“I wish, sometimes, that we could have...that I could have figured it out sooner,” Jack said. “We could have had so much more time.”

Bitty shook his head. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the same thought--he often did. But it didn’t do any good to have Jack making himself miserable about it now. “That would have had issues, too,” he said, finally. “After all, you were my captain.”

Jack chuckled. The sound made Bitty warm inside. “I thought of that,” he said. “More than once.” He looked sideways and grinned. “Come on--let’s get some protein in you before we get morose.”

Lunch was remarkably normal. A few people approached their table to talk to Jack, but Samwell really didn’t see him any differently than it had before the NHL. Eventually, after Bitty’s third iced tea refill, it was clear they were putting off the inevitable. Jack paid the bill and they walked back toward the Haus in silence.

Neither of them spoke until they were back in Bitty’s room, the door shut behind them. Bitty tried not to wring his hands, unsure now of what to do. He crossed to put on some music, then changed his mind and turned back to look at Jack.

“I’m sorry,” Bitty blurted, needing to start there. “I shouldn’t have left. Were you...did you have a panic attack?”

Jack shook his head and sat down on Bitty’s mattress. “No. It’s OK. Come over here?”

Bitty sat down, a bit further from Jack than he normally would. “I don’t know what happened,” he said, his eyes already filling. “And I didn’t know how to stop it.”

Jack nodded and bit his lip. After a pause, he said, “if it’s OK with you, I want to try to talk in a way that’s kind of...structured? This is a therapy thing. One of us goes first, and talks until we’re finished with no interruptions, and then it’s the other one’s turn. It kind of helps?” He looked unsure.

“Of course, sweetheart,” Bitty said. “Do you want to go first?” He was relieved at the idea of not having to figure out what to say quite yet.

“Yeah,” Jack said. “OK.” The next pause was longer, but Jack finally spoke. “First, I’m sorry. There is no excuse for the way I spoke to you. I told myself I would never do that again, and I am really sorry I did.”

“Honey, you-” Bitty started to respond, but Jack looked at him with a soft smirk. “Oh, right,” Bitty said. “Sorry.”

Jack smiled before he continued. “I want to try to explain to you why, what is going on in my head. But it’s going to get into a lot of other things as well…” He trailed off, clearly trying to find words. “I just want to be sure you want to hear this stuff.”

Jack’s look told Bitty it was OK for him to talk. “I want to hear anything you have to say.”

Jack nodded and took a deep breath. “Well, the first thing, then, is that I think I’ve been taking advantage of you.”

Bitty started to respond, but realized his mistake before much came out and stifled it. Jack smiled again before continuing.

“You’ve been so willing to twist your life around to make things work for me, for my schedule and my anxiety and my needs, and I don’t think I’ve realized what that must be costing you, or how unfair it is.” Jack licked his lips and looked down at his hands. “And I want that to stop. Obviously, I have responsibilities, and life during the season is hectic, but I want to do a better job meeting you halfway. You shouldn’t have to be the one to make all the sacrifices.”

Looking up, Jack saw Bitty open his mouth, and shook his head. “Not done yet, Bits,” he said, voice soft.

Bitty closed his mouth and nodded.

Jack continued. “As I think you know, I’ve been having quite a bit of anxiety, with the new season. That was to be expected. I’ve also been really tired--more than I thought was possible. It’s been hard for me to make time, or have energy, for much of anything outside hockey. I don’t want that to be an excuse--I just want you to understand this next bit.” Jack’s examination of his hands continued. He closed his eyes and his body tensed. “On the phone, on Skype, lately, we’ve been…” he trailed off, “you know?” He looked up to make sure Bitty was with him.

Bitty smiled. “You mean the…?”

“Yeah.” Jack nodded quickly and looked back down into his lap. “Some of the time...most of the time, I guess...I haven’t been able to...I haven’t…” Jack’s face was red. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just…”

Jack didn’t look up, but the shift in Bitty’s body told him that Bitty understood what he was saying. What he didn’t expect was the giggle. Jack frowned, then looked up.

Bitty was biting his lips, clearly trying to hold back a laugh. “Can...can I say something?” he asked, near-breathless.

“Yeah?”

“Honey, are you telling me you’ve been...faking?” Bitty couldn’t help but smile.

“Yeah. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lied. I didn’t want you to be upset, and…”

Bitty moved across the space between them and pulled Jack’s head into his neck. “You silly, silly boy. I’m not mad. Sex is just sex. And yeah, I love it. I want to have it, with you, like, all the time. But it’s not why I love you. And you shouldn’t ever have to feel like you have to perform for me.” He pulled away so that he could look into Jack’s face. “Jack Zimmermann, you have a lot on your plate, and you have a lot of anxiety, plus you have medications you need to take. If that makes it so we don’t get it on for a while, I will absolutely live. This is not something you need to worry about. And it certainly isn’t something you need to fake.”

Jack smiled. “OK,” he said. “But I still feel terrible, Bits. I shouldn’t have lied, especially for so long. And I don’t like the way I have been treating you. This isn’t what I want for our relationship.”

Bitty nodded. “I know, baby. We’re having some trouble, and it’s hard, and we should have talked about it, like this, to begin with. But it’ll be OK.” He frowned. “But Jack? If this isn’t about the stress and the meds, if it’s about you just...not wanting that. You know you can tell me that too, right?”

Jack shook his head hard. “No, see, that’s part of why I lied. I don’t want you to think I don’t want you. I want you. All the time. It’s so, so not that.” His voice rose, leaning toward frantic.

Bitty reached out again and took Jack’s hand. “OK. I believe you. I just don’t want you to feel...pressured…”

Jack groaned. “Bits, if it were any other time but the first half of my first season in the NHL, this would not be an issue. It’s about that. Nothing else. I promise.” He met Bitty’s eyes and stared into them. “Tell me you believe me?”

“I believe you, baby.” After a pause, Bitty took a deep breath and scooted back a bit on the bed. “Is it my turn now? Because there are some things I need to say to you, too.”

Jack nodded.

“So, the first thing, I guess, is what I said before. I shouldn't have left, and I am sorry I did. I promise I won’t do that again. Even if we fight, I won’t run away when you might need me.”

Jack began to object, and Bitty held up a hand to quiet him. “My turn now, remember?”

Chastised, Jack nodded. Bitty continued. “The next thing I need to say is that yes, I have been putting you first more than I should, over school.” Bitty wrinkled his nose. “I’m never going to be a great student, and that’s fine, but…” He squared his shoulders. “I’m doing worse in my classes than I’ve been letting on.”

Jack’s brow wrinkled, clearly concerned. Bitty kept on going before he lost his nerve. “Both French and philosophy are in trouble. I think I can still pass, but it’s gonna depend on how midterms end up.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up, but Bitty raised a hand to keep him from speaking. “I know, I’ve told you I am doing fine. I just...I didn’t want you to worry, and I didn’t want you to say we need to spend less time together.” Bitty took in a long, hard breath. “And I didn’t want you to think I’m dumb.”

Jack did interrupt, then. “Bits, I’m never gonna think--”

Bitty cut him off. “My time’s not up yet, Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack frowned, but stopped speaking, and Bitty continued. “I think there’s a bigger issue for me, too. I...I worry that if things with me get hard for you, if it takes too much effort, or, you know, if it’s not perfect...then it will be too stressful to be worth it for you.” The end of the sentence came out in a rush. “I’m afraid I’ll lose you.”

This time, Jack didn’t let Bitty shush him. “I’m gonna talk now, Bits,” he said, firmly, moving forward again and pulling Bitty against him. “I am so, so sorry. I never wanted to make you feel that way. You being...easy? That’s not part of this equation. It doesn’t matter how much you complicate my life, because you make it so much better. I never want to go back to pretending that hockey is all I care about. I never want things to be that simple.”

Bitty looked up with teary eyes, and Jack’s jaw was set. “I know it makes things harder for you, though,” he said, “havin’ me around, havin’ to think about when you can talk to me…”

Jack shook his head. “Harder? Maybe. But there’s nothing wrong with hard. And it’s so much better.” He cupped Bitty’s chin in his hands. “You add so much to my life, bud. I don’t ever want to be without you. Please, please don’t think you need to try to make this easy on me.”

Bitty wound his arms around Jack’s neck and they sat quietly for a while, each listening to the other breathe. Bitty’s eyes dried, and he congratulated himself, silently, on not actually crying.

Finally, Jack pulled back enough to look into Bitty’s face again and smiled. “So, now what do we do? Do you want to tell me more about what’s going on with school?”

Bitty groaned. “No. But I will.” Briefly, he outlined the trouble he was having, adding that he’d made a bit of progress over the past few days. He mentioned Shitty’s offer to help in philosophy.

“You know I can help with French, right?” Jack asked. “I mean, I know I can be kind of...overbearing…”

Bitty laughed. “Kind of? Four-in-the-freaking-morning, Jack.”

Jack smiled. “You loved it.”

Bitty smirked. “Some of it.” He reached back to press his face against Jack’s chest. “It would be good if you helped me, I think. But it has to be on my terms, Jack. You’re not the captain anymore, OK?”

Jack nodded. “I get that.”

Bitty doubted it, but time would tell. As if he could read Bitty’s mind, Jack smirked. “What? I can give up control!”

Bitty bit his lip before he said it, still not sure he wanted to make the suggestion, but it felt right, so he pressed on, keeping his head ducked so he didn’t have to meet Jack’s eyes. “There’s something else I think we should do,” he said.

“OK?”

“When your line isn’t working, what’s the first thing any good coach will tell you to do?” Bitty peaked up, watching to see if Jack was following his analogy.

Jack frowned. “I don’t know, depends on the problem. Do you have strength on both wings, or are you lopsided? Is the center…”

Bitty cut him off. “More basic than any of that. The FIRST thing, no matter what the issue is.”

Jack paused. “Go back to fundamentals,” he said. “Focus on the basics.”

“Exactly.” Bitty smiled brightly, as if Jack had made some amazing discovery. “I think that might be what we need to do for a while. Stop complicating things. Go back to basics.”

“What does that mean?”

Bitty hid his face again, but Jack gently pulled his chin up. “You don’t need to be embarrassed. Tell me what you’re thinking.”

Bitty sighed. “I think, just for a while, we should focus on the things we need to do--school, hockey. Not so much on...other stuff.”

Jack frowned. “You mean, not on each other? I don’t want that, Bits…”

Bitty shook his head. “No, I still think we should talk, and see each other when we can. I just think that maybe we should…” He took a gulp and then rushed the rest. “Stophavingsexforawhile.”

Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You want to stop having sex?”

Bitty was gratified, and then immediately guilty, at Jack’s shock. “It’s not that I want to. Furthest thing from it. But I don’t want the pressure, for either of us. I think we need to get back to a good place before we add it back in. I just mean for a little while.” By the time he finished speaking, he felt more unsure than he had when he started.

Jack nodded slowly. “I think I get what you mean,” he said. “After finally getting together, we’ve been so excited, and so anxious, to do everything, and to do everything right…” He looked at Bitty intently. “You’re not just suggesting this because you think I don’t want to have sex, are you? Because that’s really, really not true.”

“No. I know it’s not. We both want to. And I can’t imagine we’ll stick to it all that long. I just think it might be easier, for both of us, to take it out of the equation for a while. Until we feel more stable.”

“OK.” Jack looked serious, but not upset. “We can try it. How long are you thinking?”

“I don’t know. Depends on how much we see each other, I guess? I definitely think we should stop with the...Skype stuff.”

“Yeah, I figured you probably wouldn’t want to do that anymore. I’m so sorry, Bits.”

“Jack. Stop apologizing. I’m not saying never again. Just, not now.”

“OK.” Jack looked like he wasn’t sure what else to say.

“This has been a lot,” Bitty said. “Is it OK if we...take a break? Don’t talk about it anymore?”  
Jack smiled. “I think this kind of thing isn’t just something you do once, and then you’re done. I think we can be done talking about it now, we just have to promise that when more comes up later, we’ll be honest, and not wait for it to get like this.” He squeezed Bitty’s hand. “I promise.”

“I promise, too.” Bitty’s body sagged. “What do you want to do now?”

Jack tipped his head back and rolled his shoulders. “I want to take a nap,” he said. “Do you need to study?”

“Yes, but not yet.”

Jack didn’t argue. “Nap with me? Then you can work and I’ll go see Lardo in the studio. Later, I can drive you to get groceries, so you’ll be all stocked up for your inevitable procrastination baking.”

Bitty smiled at the chirp, already stripping down to get into bed. “That sounds perfect.” He held up the edge of the blanket, urging Jack into bed beside him.

“No sex doesn’t mean no kissing, right?” Jack’s face was so close to Bitty’s that their noses nearly brushed together.

“Absolutely not,” Bitty said, closing the distance. “I think it means more kissing.”

“I can work with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Please come visit me on [Tumblr](https://coffeewithconsequences.tumblr.com/) or read the rest of my fic here at [Archive of Our Own](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CoffeeWithConsequences/works)!


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